


This coffee feeds my soul

by Oilux



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shops, M/M, another coffee shop AU, that no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 06:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12337188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oilux/pseuds/Oilux
Summary: Based off a prompt I saw on tumblr:"Every day you come in and order a large coffee bright and early and you look dead on your feet, are you okay?"





	This coffee feeds my soul

Lance enjoyed working morning hours, before the sun rose and he had the entire day to himself. True, he often went home after work and took a nap, but if he ever had to do important things, he could go and do them after work. Often, it was early morning time when they were the busiest, so it would make his entire day go by faster. Though he did see a lot of the random people who would come in at five in the morning who had no idea how to be polite. 

It wasn’t often that there would be customers right outside the door when Lance went to open, but this wasn’t the case this morning. As soon as he opened the door, a figure dressed in a dark red hoodie rushed in, puffing out an exhale of cold fall air. Summer had just ended, and winter was rolling in quickly. 

“Morning.” Lance said, almost sarcastic but too tired, jiggling the handle of the door to make sure it was really unlocked. Another yawn escaped past his lips as he walked past the customer, going behind the counter and leaning lazily against the register. If customers could claim to be rude because they hadn’t had their morning coffee, he could be a little lazy before he had his own.

“Can I get a large coffee?” The customer had black bands that just barely wafted into his eyes, barely hiding them from his gaze. “Actually just give me whatever has the most caffeine.”

“You got it.” Lance hit a couple buttons on the register, adding up the charges. “That’ll be three dollars.”

The customer took out three crumpled bills, giving them to Lance and sighing heavily. Lance caught a glimpse of black bags underneath the man’s eyes, heavy and downloaden with lack of sleep. 

“You okay man?” Lance asked, getting the coffee. He gave it to the customer, getting cream out of the fridge to offer to him. 

“I’m fine.” The man muttered, pouring just a little cream into his coffee. Lance shrugged a little, going back to opening the store and making sure everything was just where it needed to be.

“Thanks for the coffee.” The man called, heading back out into the chilly night air. The flow of air made Lance shudder, but it was quickly drowned out by the warm air from the cafe. 

The man in red wasn’t the first sleep deprived customer Lance had in the morning, and he wouldn’t be the last. Though Lance was a bit curious as to why someone would deprive themselves of sleep and torture themselves. The timer for the muffins dinged, and Lance’s thoughts scattered into a mess. Shiro would definitely yell at him if he let another batch of pastries burn.

* * *

“Welcome back.” Lance said as the same customer as yesterday with black hair and bags under his eyes.

“Thanks.” The reply was short, but tired. “Another coffee please.”

This time the bills were a little less crumpled, and a dollar was shoved in the tip jar unceremoniously as Lance poured hot coffee into a cup. The man with the red jacket took it without complaint, hitching his jacket up a bit higher on his shoulders. Lance didn’t understand why he was wearing that, it was still warm outside on that particular morning. 

“Hey, mullet.” Lance said, and got a glare for the nickname. “You okay? You look super tired.”

“I’m fine.” The man snapped. “My name is Keith.”

“Okay, mullet, see you tomorrow!” The amount of cheer that Lance had didn’t need to be forced, and Keith glared at him for a moment longer before storming out, nearly spilling his coffee all over himself when the door stuck. Lance’s laughter was barely stifled by his hands. 

Keith still came back though, every morning, even as the bags under his eyes got worse and worse, and he seemed to droop with exhaustion as the days wore on. Lance wasn’t sure that it was his place to comment, but he almost did a couple times. Though in the times that Keith came in, Lance learned Keith preferred chocolate over everything else, that he had an affection for sweet things, and liked salt and vinegar chips. 

“Hey, mullet.” Lance greeted cheerily. Seeing Keith every morning he worked was quickly becoming a bright point in his day. “What do you do for work?”

Keith eyed him warily, like it was a trap question meant to reveal a shocking personal detail. Lance raised his hands defensively, pouring Keith’s coffee before the man had a chance to order it. 

“It’s a job.” Keith answered cryptically. “What do you do for a living?”

Lance paused, looking at Keith in confusion, about to hand him his coffee. Was the plain brown apron and black tee shirt with ‘Son of a Bean’ printed in poorly misshaped letters not enough? Keith flushed, looking down and snatching the coffee from Lance. 

“I don’t know, samurai, where do I work?” Lance teased, leaning against the register. He had a large grin on his face, despite having to hide it because of a yawn. Keith scowled and threw a couple dollars on the counter. 

“Shut it.” Keith mumbled. Lance snickered, watching Keith add cream and sugar to his coffee. “This is what I get for trying to talk to people.”

“Aw, don’t be such a sour puss Keith.” Lance yawned again, and moved to the pastry case to pull out one of their freshly made chocolate chip muffins. “Here, quit your pouting.”

Keith’s eyes widened for a second as Lance handed him the muffin, but his scowl was back in a heartbeat. He still snatched the muffin away from Lance, shoving it into the pocket of his red hoodie as he raced out of the cafe. Lance kept his laughter to himself until he was alone. He looked forward to every time Keith visited him.

* * *

“Dude you are really not looking okay.” Lance said, leaning forward against the register. Keith put his hands on the counter, harsh, black bags under his eyes. “What are you going up so late? You’re here like every morning.”

Keith grunted and put a couple dollars down on the counter, moving away from Lance. With a heavy sigh and a small noise of discontent, Lance poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Keith. The other man took it, but didn’t do anything with it, only staring at the cup.

“Okay, you need to sit down.” Lance came out from behind the counter, putting his arm over Keith’s shoulder. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

Keith stumbled, having to lean against Lance the longer they walked, until Keith was finally sitting in a chair in the back, eyes already starting to droop with exhaustion. Lance turned the lights down, stepping back from Keith and allowing him to have his space.

“Get some rest, Samurai, I’ll bug ya later.” Keith grunted softly, resting his head against the wall. Lance shut the door softly behind him.

It was strange, having to work and knowing Keith was sleeping in the back. The only way Lance could describe it was the feeling of someone watching him, but that wasn’t right. He could hardly focus on customers and their orders, messing up on more than one occasion. 

“Lance, you okay?” Shiro was standing behind him and Lance jumped. He had no idea when the other appeared there. “You haven’t even noticed I’m here and you’ve messed up three drinks.”

“I’m fine, just busy today.” Lance shrugged and remade the drink once more. “You remember the guy I was telling you about?”

“Keith? Yeah, I wanted to tell you-”

“Well he came in this morning looking ready to drop. I let him come into the back and sleep.” Lance blurted out. “I don’t want to get in trouble but you should have seen him, Shiro, he looked ready to pass out.”

“Wait, wait, what?” Shiro pulled back, pushing open the door to the back and pausing there. Keith was still asleep, snoring slightly as he leaned against the wall. Lance pulled Shiro back, not wanting Keith’s sleep interrupted. 

“Lance, Keith is my brother.” Shiro said. “He’s been coming here every morning? For what, coffee?”

“Yeah.” Lance nodded. “Don’t you see him on your days opening?”

“No, because he knew I would have yelled at him.” Shiro laughed slightly. “It’s not the first time he’s done this. Take your break and come get me when he wakes up.”

Lance nodded, pushing open the door as quietly as he could. Keith stirred slightly at the noise, but settled down, allowing Lance to creep in closer to the other and take a seat near him. 

As stupid as it was, and ridiculous because the other obviously needed sleep, Lance wanted Keith to keep coming in every morning. He liked seeing the scowl on the other’s face, the regular banter they would have. Lance didn’t want Shiro scaring Keith away, and preventing more of their early morning meetings.

“You’re wearing yourself thin there, buddy.” Lance chuckled quietly to himself. “What’re you even doing?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Keith mumbled, and Lance stumbled back as purple eyes slitted open to stare at him through long lashes. “What time is it?”

“About eleven, I think.” Lance plopped down in the seat next to him. “And come on, you can’t tell me I won’t believe it if you won’t tell me.”

Keith glanced at him, not saying anything. Lance huffed, slightly offended that he was being ignored, but didn’t say anything. Keith stretched in place, arching his back like a cat. He with a bit of grace that Lance hardly saw in people.

“Oh, Shiro wanted me to get him when you woke up.” Lance rose, ignoring his aching feet. No matter what he did during his shift he ended up going home with sore feet.

“Fuck, Shiro’s here?” Keith sat up, checking his pockets. “Tell him I left already, shit-”

“I am honestly offended that you don’t think I know you well enough that my first guess would be that you would try to sneak out.” Shiro said, pushing through the swinging door. “Want to explain what you’ve been doing lately? Lance says you’ve been in every morning. Don’t tell me-”

“I’m really close this time!” Keith interrupted, standing up. Lance started, but held back from saying anything. “Just a little more-”

“Keith, we talked about this, you can do whatever you want as long as you get a reasonable amount of sleep and go about your regular life.” Shiro sounded like a concerned parent. 

“What have you been doing?” Lance asked, leaning back in his chair, extremely curious. “Tell me.”

“You don’t understand, Shiro, I’ve never been this close before-”

“Mothman doesn’t exist, Keith.”

Lance nearly fell out of his chair at the dramatic, betrayed gasp that Keith let out. Keith looked like Shiro had just told him that the morals he had were wrong, or that Santa Claus didn’t exist. Lance barely managed to stifle giggles behind his hand, while Shiro rolled his eyes.

“When I finally get my proof you’re going to regret saying that.” Keith muttered, looking at Lance. “You know he exists, right?”

Lance didn’t know, nor did he care, if he was being brutally honest, but with the way that Keith looked at him with those eyes, expression hopeful, Lance just couldn’t say no. He nodded, offering Keith a bright smile.

“Yeah, but maybe you shouldn’t wear yourself so thin.” Lance teased, and Keith’s shoulders dropped. “I mean, if you want to come and see me, I’m not against it, but I just don’t want you wearing yourself thin.”

At some point, Shiro had left them alone, and Keith slumped back into his chair with exhaustion in his face. Lance leaned a bit closer, head resting in his hand. Keith glanced at him, lips pursed into a sour expression, and Lance sighed.

“You know, if you want to go out and look for Mothman, maybe I could come out with you.” Lance eventually offered, hesitantly. “If you want, that is.”

“You want to go with me?” Keith asked, skeptical. When Lance nodded, he seemed to brighten a bit, and pulled out a notebook. It was full of random notes and scribbles, and he tore out out a piece of paper to write something on it. He handed it to Lance, showing a phone number.

“Call me.” Keith smiled, standing up and moving to the exit. “Don’t be mad when I don’t come in for coffee tomorrow.”

“If you get some sleep I won’t!” Lance called back as the door swung shut. He pulled out his phone, sending out a text message to the number Keith gave him.

Hunting Mothman couldn’t be that bad, could it?


End file.
